


The Wager

by glymr



Category: Batgirl (Comics), Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: F/M, First Time, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-05-14
Updated: 2010-05-14
Packaged: 2018-03-09 01:02:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3230336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/glymr/pseuds/glymr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stephanie Brown bet seventeen-year-old virgin Damian Wayne that he couldn't be nice to her for a week. She lost.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Wager

**Author's Note:**

> Full disclosure! The idea for the set-up for this belongs to ladyk_d_azrael. I saw [this thread](http://jbadgr.livejournal.com/21878.html?thread=611446#t611446) and thought: huh. That's a fun idea. I hope she writes it. And then a couple of days later, I woke up with porn in my head. This always happens to me. -_-; I wrote to ladyk and she graciously gave me permission to write the scene. At some point she, hopefully, will write the prequel to this. This is also for jbadgr since I've been promising her something for awhile now. I hope you like it, hon.

Steph sighs and rubs her temple, a nervous habit she's developed over the past week. Who would have thought the little brat had it in him? Despite all her baiting, Damian's been nothing but a perfect little gentleman to her for the past seven days. Nothing but courteous and gentle and...really *sweet*. Even though she's *sure* he's been laughing at her underneath.

Obviously she underestimated him. And now...oh god...she's gonna have to pay the price.

"All right," she says to him. "Let's do this." _Let's get this over with_.

He moves forward slowly, tilting his head down a little ( _when did he get so tall?_ ) to catch her lips in an inexperienced kiss. She returns it for a moment, before laughing against his mouth and pulling back. "I'm sorry," she says. "This is just so _weird_."

When she looks up again, he's gazing at her intently. Then his eyes narrow and he says in a tone she hasn't heard from him all week, "Well, I trust you learned your lesson."

"What?" says Steph blankly.

He takes a step back from her and says, "I release you from your promise."

Steph blinks. "*What?* You mean...you don't *want* to have sex with me?"

"Really, Steph," he says sardonically, "And force myself on an unwilling partner? Would a _nice guy_ do such a thing?"

Slowly, Steph shakes her head.

"Of course not." He turns away from her. "In the future, perhaps you will have a little care before wagering something so...precious." Steph is rooted to the spot, stunned at her unexpected reprieve. Finally she shakes herself out of her paralysis and goes to the door.

Pausing with her hand on the knob, she looks at him over her shoulder. He has his back to her.

"I'm still going to call you 'Boy Virgin'," she says, trying to re-capture their old dynamic.

His shoulders twitch in a shrug. "*Tt*. Whether or not I have had sex has nothing to do with my ability to carry out The Mission."

She snorts. "You sound like Tim."

His shoulders tense. "Did you," he stops, then finishes, "take _his_ virginity?"

She goes quiet, remembering. All the near-misses, all the times when things hadn't quite worked out. "No," she says finally. "We never had sex. I would have, though. If he'd wanted to," she says wistfully.

"I..."

She waits a beat. "Yes?"

His back to her, he waves a hand. "You may go now."

Steph leaves.

* * *

A few hours later, she finds him sitting on his bed, his legs crossed. He's changed out of the button-down shirt and slacks he was wearing earlier into a gi, and he looks comfortable in the loose-fitting white cotton.

"Yes," he says, looking up at her, "What do you want?"

She closes the door and leans against it, unobtrusively locking it behind her back. "I haven't been very nice to *you*, have I?" she says. "I criticized you for being a jerk -"

"- I _was_ a jerk -"

"- but I've been a bitch to you for the past week."

He shrugs. "You were trying to win the wager," he says. "I didn't hold it against you."

"I know," she says, and walks up to the bed, sitting down next to him. He looks at her, his expression cool and blank. She doesn't say anything else, but leans forward and presses her lips to his. When she pulls back his eyes have gone wide.

"You don't have to," he says almost angrily.

"I want to," she says, and his breath catches. "I owe you."

He frowns a little at that. "I have forgiven the debt."

"I haven't." She captures his mouth again, wrapping one hand around the back of his neck to keep him from pulling away. He's...wow, he's trembling, _shaking_. She kisses him slowly, showing him how to do it.

"Steph," he whispers against her mouth.

"It's all right," she says between kisses. His hands come up, hesitantly clasping her arms, and she smiles and moves them to her chest. He swallows, petting the soft cashmere of her sweater for a moment before sliding his hands beneath it to touch the skin of her abdomen. Leaning back a little, she pulls the sweater off over her head and watches the blush crawl into his cheeks as he looks at her. Her bra is a lacy one, dark purple, and he looks at it and swallows again.

Catching his lips with hers once more, she lets him put his arms around her and fumble with the catches on her bra for a long moment before finally managing to undo it. She sucks on his lower lip, and he shudders and pulls away, gasping. He breathes hard for a second before turning back and looking at her.

"I wish to...I would like to touch you," he says, and part of her wants to laugh, but she doesn't. She nods.

His hands are delicate on her breasts, and she shivers as he strokes her nipples lightly. He bends down to take one in his mouth, first licking, then sucking on it eagerly, sending shocks of sensation through her body.

"Mmmm, D, that's...nice," she murmurs. He moves to the other nipple and begins to run his thumb across the first, over and over again, until Steph realizes she's squirming. She wraps her hands around his wrists and pulls him into another kiss, feeling him gasp against her mouth.

He breaks the kiss after a few moments, searching her eyes. "Will you," he says, flushing again, "would you..."

Cupping his cheek, she says to him, "What do you want, Little D?"

He scowls and says, "I want you to take your pants off," and for a moment there's a trace of the Damian she knows, acerbic and imperious, before he drops his eyes and adds, "...please."

Steph smiles and begins to peel off her jeans, and slips off her underwear for good measure. Kicking it away, she leans back on her elbows and says, "Well?"

Damian looks at her, stretched out nude before him, and swallows. "You are..." he says hoarsely.

"And you're still dressed," she says when he leaves the thought unfinished. "Let me help you with that-"

"Not yet," he says quickly, blocking her hands. He shifts and crawls across the bed until he's kneeling between her legs. Then, without a word, leans down to touch, to taste...

"Oh, Damian," she says, putting a hand in his hair. "You don't have to-oooooooooh," the last word becomes a moan in spite of herself as he finds her clitoris with his tongue. "Jesus, Little D, that's good, but you don't...have..."

The touches are light at first, but become more intense as he begins to gain confidence. Every stroke over her clit sends another jolt through her, until she's bucking up against him, and he sucks on her, exploring, finding what makes her gasp and shudder. He's clutching her thighs so hard that she'll probably have bruises there tomorrow, so she slides down and wraps her hands around his. His grip loosens, shifts. He grasps at her fingers. She moans, and feels his hands shaking again.

With a small, sharp cry, he throws his head back, squeezing her hands. He bites his lip, his eyes screwed shut, and as she watches his hips thrust uncontrollably, once, twice, a third time. She can feel his hot breath against her as he pants. His face is flushed.

He doesn't open his eyes, doesn't say a word. Instead he just lowers his head, breathing harshly through his nose, and starts licking her again, quick, sharp strokes that make her writhe.

"Jesus," she says, "Jesus, Little D." And then she can't talk anymore, because she's arching off the bed. He doesn't stop touching her or licking her for a moment, following her with his mouth until she shoves his head away with a laugh. "Come here," she says, tugging at his arm. He lets her draw him forward. His chin is wet and slick with her fluids, and she leans in and licks his face, pushing him down onto the bed. There's an obvious wet spot on the front of his loose pants. Steph tugs at them until he unties them and slides them off, silently cleaning himself as he goes. His top is tied in front, and comes off easily as well. He folds his legs under him and kneels before her on the bed as she looks him over.

He doesn't have his father's bulk, though that may develop in time if he works at it. But Damian does have beautiful muscle definition, his torso clean and sculpted, except for the scars marring the perfect surface. He takes after his father in other ways, too - not that Steph had ever *looked* in the showers, but there were some things one couldn't *help* but see, whether one wanted to or not.

The kid's cock, like the rest of him, doesn't have quite the girth that she remembers Bruce having from those few stolen glances in the shower, but it's long and half-erect. Steph smiles and wraps her hand around it, stroking it slowly, watching with pleasure as his eyes flutter closed. "Steph," he whispers. " _Steph_."

"What do you want, Damian?" she asks. His eyes fly open again. "Do you want me to suck you?" she feels his cock jump in her hand at her words. "Do you want to be inside of me?"

"I...don't know," he admits, frowning. "Steph. _You_ decide."

She thinks about it, sliding her hand down and up. Most of the boys she's been with haven't had a foreskin, but Damian does, and it glides smoothly with each movement. "Mmm. I think I want that nice, long cock inside of me," and feels him _pulse_ against her hand.

He whispers fervently in his birth language. Before she can do anything else, he reaches into the nightstand drawer and pulls out a condom. His normally quick fingers are clumsy on the package.

"You do know I'm on the pill, right, kid?" she says, raising an eyebrow.

"I know," he says, not meeting her eye. "I know. But...I would not want to cause you any...problems."

 _*And* you've got a bit of a hair-trigger_ , thinks Steph, but she just nods. "That's sweet of you, D." He shrugs and looks down, carefully rolling the latex sleeve into place.

When he's settled, she grips his shoulders and pushes him back on the bed. He doesn't resist her. Watching his face, she positions herself above him. He looks up at her, his expression...for a moment he seems almost frightened.

"It's all right," she says, lowering her head to kiss him. He stills, then relaxes against her mouth, and at that instant she drives down onto him with one fast, hard stroke.

"Ah!" he shouts into her mouth, jerking violently against her. She shifts and sits up, settling herself all the way down on him, as deep as he can go inside her, pulling a groan from him and harsh words in a language she doesn't know. Steph waits.

When he finally opens his eyes again, she rolls her hips, clenching her vaginal muscles and working him. His hands tighten on her thighs to the point of pain.

"Stop! Stop!" he cries, and she freezes.

"What's wrong? Am I hurting you?"

"No," he gasps, shuddering. "No, it's...too. I don't want to - "

"I want you to," she says.

"Not yet," he says. "I want to bring you to orgasm again first."

"You will," she says gently.

"No, I will...I will make it _good_. I will be...the best..." he growls.

She leans down, kissing his cheek, the corner of his lips. "It's your first time, D. It's not a contest or a battle-"

"My only time," he whispers, "with...with..."

*That* makes her pause. "Damian. You-"

"Don't," he says, his voice hard.

"Damian," she says. "Look at me." His eyes slide unwillingly back to her face. That's when she realizes she has absolutely no idea what to say, so she kisses him again instead, on the lips this time. His hands come to rest on her waist, almost hesitantly.

Suddenly he sits up, carrying her with him. She's still straddling him, on his *lap*, now, and he grunts as the movement shifts him inside of her. Keeping one arm wrapped around her waist, he cups one of her breasts with the other, rolling the nipple between his finger. She *squeaks* somewhat embarrassingly, but he doesn't even smile, just pushes her down until she's on her back and he's sitting atop her. He touches her breasts with both hands, fondling them and teasing them. It makes Steph *clench* and *want*, and Damian moans. "...Stephanie," he murmurs. " _Batgirl_."

" _Robin_ ," she says, letting her lips curl into Batgirl's smile, as dangerous as any knife. He makes a small sound through gritted teeth and stops teasing, falling forward to plant his hands on either side of her, thrusting down into her hard and fast. "Yes," she hisses at him.

It's _good_...but then his rhythm stutters, and he's stammering, "I can't, I _can't_. No-" He grinds against her helplessly, "I-" he gasps, then goes silent, biting his lip as his whole body tightens, strains. " _Steph_ ," he sobs out. His head drops forward between his arms. She reaches out, pulling him down on top of her, his body heavy and hard and warm against hers.

She buries her hand in his hair again, listening to his heartbeat slow back to its normal rate.

"I failed," he whispers.

"Damian," she says, "That was lovely."

Propping himself up on his arms, he looks down into her eyes. "I want to bring you to orgasm again," he insists.

She reaches up to cup his face. "All right," she says. Her lips curve into a slow smile. Shifting, she pulls herself up. He sits back on his heels, carefully withdrawing the condom as he pulls out. She takes a moment to touch his face again, then says, "Stay here."

He blinks at her and frowns. "Where are you going?"

"I'll be right back," she says. "Stay." Grabbing his dark blue bathrobe from where it's hanging in his bathroom, she ties it around herself. Thankfully, she'd extracted a promise of privacy tonight from the others, so she doesn't meet anyone as she hurries down the hall toward her own room. She grabs what she came to get and quickly makes her way back to Damian's room.

He's sitting with his back against the headboard, much as he was earlier that night. He's cleaned himself up, she notes. When he sees what she's carrying, he frowns again. "Those are..."

"Sex toys," says Steph, putting them down on the bed.

"No," he says, "...I want to do it _myself_."

"You will," she says confidently. "Give it a chance, D. I think you'll like this."

Slowly, he nods. "Very well," he says. "What do I do?"

She slips on her purple butterfly, carefully strapping it in place before tossing him the remote. He catches it automatically. "That controls speed and rhythm," she says. Crawling forward, she hands him the other thing she brought: her favorite vibrator, which is also purple and a comfortable size - not too big.

He looks from the remote to the vibrator. "Both of them?" he says.

She grins. "Both of them," she says.

Taking a breath, he nods. "Lie down on your back?"

She does so, spreading her legs a little. He examines the remote carefully before flicking the 'On' switch.

Her hips jerk involuntarily at the sudden surge of vibration against her clit. He increases it, making her arch, then lowers it again. She opens her eyes. "Tease," she says.

The corners of his lips turn up in a small, sharp smile. He flicks the dial up, giving her a brief, sharp jolt of sensation, before pulling it back again. "D," she says breathlessly. "Come on - ah!" He does it once more, a little longer this time, and watches, fascinated, as she shakes. "Damian," she moans, "Oh, _please_."

Sucking in a long breath, he whispers, "Not yet. Not yet." Taking the purple dildo in his other hand, he nudges against her waiting, willing body.

"Yes," she says. "Yes, inside me, *please*." She spreads her legs wider, an invitation. With a look of intense concentration, Damian slides the toy into her, achingly slow. She bucks against it and he pulls back, then thrusts it in fractionally deeper. "More," she says. "*More*. The - the base. Twist it." Damian does so, carefully, and the vibrations spill through her, up inside of her. Then he gives the remote switch a flick, and Steph screams. "Don't stop!" she says, and then he _does_ , making her want to cry. "Dammit, you fucking little *tease*!"

"Patience," smirks Damian, giving her another quick surge. "I'm told it's a virtue."

"Fuck, fuck when we're done I'm gonn- ohhhh." She loses the thread as he turns up the toys again, her hips working.

"Yes?" he says. "You're going to...what?" His deft hands flicker between the toys, pushing them up and back, setting them to their highest levels one minute and then turning them off altogether the next.

Steph can't stand it anymore, she reaches down to touch herself, but Damian catches her wrist before she can give herself relief. "Just a little more," he says, his thumb busy with the remote in his other hand. The butterfly comes alive again, buzzing over her clitoris and making her squirm. Still pinning her wrist to the bed with his left hand, he slides on top of her, rocking against her and using his thigh to push the vibrator deeper.

"Damian," she begs, her voice shaking. "Damian, D, please, _please_."

"Yes," he says, switching the remote to the highest setting before letting it fall, unheeded, to the bed. It's building inside her, at last, building until she feels the pulses tightening deep in her body and radiating out to every part of her. Her fingers tighten, her toes curl, her back arches and her head flies back as she screams, "Oh, oh, OH!"

And then it's *too* much, and she's pulling the butterfly away from her skin, shoving her hand between it and her body. "Turn it off," she pants. Damian scrabbles for the remote and finds it in the sheets after a moment, then spins the base of the vibrator into the "off" position and slides it out of her body. She feels herself tightening, trying to squeeze against the toy which is no longer there.

The echoes from the vibrators and her own orgasm flutter just under her skin, making her entire vulva throb. "Fuck," she moans, long and low. "God, Damian, that was incredible."

"You are so..." he breathes. She smiles and opens her eyes.

He's still watching her avidly. He's hard *again*, and she raises an eyebrow. " _Again_ , Damian?" she says as she reaches for him. "Impressive."

"Watching you, I..." he says defensively.

"I'm not complaining, Mr. Bat-stamina," she says with a grin, pushing him down on the bed. She's sleepy and sated, but she can do one more thing for the kid. She wraps a hand around the base of his cock, slipping the other between his legs to cup his testicles. He makes a harsh sound at that, and she glances up to see him squeezing his eyes shut.

"I-" he says, but he gets no further than that because she dives forward and sucks him into her mouth, drawing another choked sound from him.

Steph's never learned to deep throat - it's *hard* to do it without gagging. It doesn't worry her. She knows from experience that, as long as she's gentle (and mindful of her teeth) a guy will appreciate just about *anything* she does for him.

Wrapping her lips around the head, she sucks it, teasing it with her tongue, and feels him jerk beneath her. His hands grab onto her hair, not pulling it, just holding on as she squeezes the base and goes a little further down, as much as she can.

"Steph," he says, his voice strained. She pulls back and goes down again, pushing onto him and stroking the underside with her tongue. Hollowing her cheeks, she sucks harder. His body jumps under hers. He tugs a little at her hair. "Steph," he says. "Ah, I-" and he comes, hips thrusting forward involuntarily as he shoots into her mouth. She swallows the stuff down, managing not to make a face - it's not the taste she minds, so much as the slippery texture - then crawls back up the bed to kiss him before snuggling down beside him. He looks the way she feels: dazed and utterly sated.

"So," she says, yawning. "That was great, but there's no way you could be nice to me for *another* week."

He lifts his head and looks into her eyes, his own are narrowed with wary hope, calculation, and subtle amusement. "Want to bet?"

~~~


End file.
